Love It or Hate It
by Galxychld
Summary: Missing scene from "The Gift." Elizabeth is thinking. My first Atlantis fic!


**Love It or Hate It**

Disclaimer: Don't own them, darn it! They belong to MGM. I promise to put them back safe and sound when I'm done. Not making anything off this except perhaps your enjoyment.

Author's note: Spoilers up to "The Gift," I suppose. Quite technically I wrote this after just _hearing_ about "The Gift," but I think it fits anyway. This is set just before we see John and Elizabeth talking on the balcony. Enjoy, and please read and review!

She loved this balcony.

She hated this balcony.

Elizabeth Weir, renowned diplomat and determined leader of the Atlantis expedition, frowned slightly and crossed her arms. She stared out at the sea and watched the sun bring tiny sparks of light to the gentle waves that broke on the edges of the city. She sighed.

She loved this balcony. She loved the view of the deep blue sea that stretched around them for miles in all directions. She loved how the structure of the place always afforded a tiny bit of shade even in the strongest sunlight. She loved how the breezes would dance through her dark curls, fluffing them out a little and refreshing her.

She hated this balcony. Now when she set foot on it she always remembered another balcony in another part of the city. She remembered the driving rain and gale-force winds, remembered Kolya nearly strangling Rodney as they leaned over the railing, remembered the fear that had thickened in her when she realized that they were only buying time to try and keep from getting shot.

She loved this balcony. It was a place she could go to and think, to escape for just a little while the enormity of running a place like Atlantis. It was the place that she and John had many of their best conversations. They discussed Atlantis, how best to have their respective groups work together, how to find more resources and how to deal with the Athosians. John had surprised her on her birthday on this very balcony, giving her that beautiful little bowl and throwing her that cocky grin as he refused to say how he knew when her birthday was. She loved that they could just stand there on some mornings, sipping coffee together in silence and just gathering strength from each other before facing another busy day. John called the balcony their "intergalactic Starbucks, minus the long lines, multiple menu choices, and of course that annoyingly perky staff."

John…She sighed again. She hated this balcony. She hated that it _had_ become a refuge, which she had to resort to coming out here because it was the only place besides her quarters that she could drop her fearless leader face. She hated that she had to be alone so often here, worrying after sending out one of her teams. Worrying most of all when she had to send out John's team, because he had the uncanny tendency to attract the worst kind of attention on his missions. She'd paced the floor of this balcony more times than she could count, waiting for him to come back from his missions, thinking of everything that could possibly go wrong, and only having moments to compose herself when the announcement came of "Incoming wormhole!"

She was worrying now, completely oblivious to the beauty of the sun on the water. Just a little while ago Teyla, channeling a Wraith in some way, had come after her with, Elizabeth was sure, the intent to kill. This, of course, coming after she had clocked John and knocked him out cold. Her fear of what Teyla was going to do to her had been compounded by her fear for what Teyla had done to John, and how bad the damage was. She understood perfectly well that the Athosian woman was not in control, but that didn't lesson her fear, or the second-guessing after the fact that she was currently engaged in on this balcony. Beckett said that he thought John would be fine, he would just have one hell of a headache. She rubbed her hands along her arms as a chill shuddered through her. Being a "fearless leader" took a lot out of a person. She knew that John understood that. He didn't talk much about his time before Atlantis, but Elizabeth sensed that things had happened to him to make him very aware of the pressure that leadership placed on a person.

The door hissed open behind her, and Elizabeth turned to see the man in question step through the doors and look at her. She stood still for a moment, assessing him, and giving him a small smile on concluding that he appeared to be perfectly fine. He took a few steps forward until he was right in front of her.

"Beckett said that Teyla came after you. Are you all right, Elizabeth?" His eyes raked over her, looking for signs of something wrong that Beckett had neglected to say.

"I'm fine," she replied. "I'm surprised that you're up and around so quickly."

He shrugged. "What can I say? Beckett can't really hold a determined man down, and aside from a headache the size of Cleveland, I'm good."

She tried to smile, and to her horror felt her features crumple as tears threatened in her eyes. She quickly looked away from him, but he reached around and gently cupped her chin to bring her eyes to meet his.

"Elizabeth?" he inquired softly.

She swallowed a sob. "I was worried about you, John. I'm worried about Teyla. I'm worried about how well I'm doing at this leader thing. When she came at me, I couldn't do anything. What kind of person can't do anything in the face of danger and still call themselves a leader?"

"Elizabeth," he said firmly, his eyes never leaving hers, "don't say that you're not a leader. You are. You are an incredible leader. I don't think I know anyone who could be doing all of this as well as you are. As for Teyla, well, she's your friend. What are you supposed to think when a friend suddenly turns on you? And another thing-you're only human, Elizabeth. You can get scared just like the rest of us, and that's nothing to be ashamed of." He searched her eyes intently, his thumb reaching out to wipe away the single tear that had slipped out from her eyes. "You're fine, Elizabeth."

He reached out, startling her somewhat, and pulled her against him in a tight embrace. He held her, imparting his warmth to her and resting his cheek against her head. She hugged him back tightly. Propriety be damned, she needed this. She listened to his heartbeat playing a soothing rhythm against her ear.

"You're doing just fine," he whispered into her hair. She smiled and closed her eyes, breathing in the unique combination of scents that made up John Sheppard.

Oh, she loved this balcony.


End file.
